*those are walkie talkies
6/2/10
5/30/10
My Life In Automobiles
(Just so you know, these are all stock photos. Not my real cars.)
We bought a new minivan yesterday, and as David and I were driving home with it, we were talking about the cars we've had over our lives. It brought back so many memories of my high school and college years, that I thought I'd document them in pictures. My very first car was the family station wagon. It was awful. Looking back now, I am grateful to have had something to drive but at the time--when lots of my friends had cool cars or fun cars or at least cars that weren't the color of dog poo--it was rough. By the time I got my driver's licence, our station wagon (a Plymouth Volare) was ancient. It had a battery acid stain on the hood and the engine had issues with exhaust, so that even after you'd turned off the engine it would shake and cough and rattle for another minute or two. I remember parking it in the high school parking lot and running away from it because it made so much noise.
After we buried the station wagon and my younger brother got his driver's licence, we found a little Mercury tracer compact that he and I could drive. I loved it. I eventually took it with me to college and could pack up my life and put it all in the back of this little red coupe in a matter of minutes. That car was good to me, and it made it across the country on road trips with friends and eventually to Minnesota where I chose to live after college. Unfortunately, I was hit head on by a little old lady one block from my apartment and the car was totaled. I think the little old lady had her licence revoked after that incident.
So there I was in Minnesota, without a car, the day before Christmas. I took a taxi to the airport and flew home to spend Christmas with my parents. We eventually decided that I would drive back to Minnesota in my dad's Plymouth Reliant. He and my mom had moved to Colorado and were thinking about a pick-up truck, so my dad was more than happy to pass the old sedan on to me. My dad was amazing. So I drove the grey/blue sedan back to Minnesota where it hated the winter. It barely ran when it was cold.
The Volvo accident took place a few weeks before we were moving to Colorado. David drove the Saturn to work during the day which was fine because I was home packing up our house. And in the middle of all that, we adopted Lily. David flew to North Carolina and back in one day to get Lily, and 6 days later we drove with her in a U-Haul to Colorado. It was interesting. And crazy. I have the pictures from that week to prove we did it, but it's all a blur in my mind.
(Just so you know, these are all stock photos. Not my real cars.)
We bought a new minivan yesterday, and as David and I were driving home with it, we were talking about the cars we've had over our lives. It brought back so many memories of my high school and college years, that I thought I'd document them in pictures. My very first car was the family station wagon. It was awful. Looking back now, I am grateful to have had something to drive but at the time--when lots of my friends had cool cars or fun cars or at least cars that weren't the color of dog poo--it was rough. By the time I got my driver's licence, our station wagon (a Plymouth Volare) was ancient. It had a battery acid stain on the hood and the engine had issues with exhaust, so that even after you'd turned off the engine it would shake and cough and rattle for another minute or two. I remember parking it in the high school parking lot and running away from it because it made so much noise.
After we buried the station wagon and my younger brother got his driver's licence, we found a little Mercury tracer compact that he and I could drive. I loved it. I eventually took it with me to college and could pack up my life and put it all in the back of this little red coupe in a matter of minutes. That car was good to me, and it made it across the country on road trips with friends and eventually to Minnesota where I chose to live after college. Unfortunately, I was hit head on by a little old lady one block from my apartment and the car was totaled. I think the little old lady had her licence revoked after that incident.
So there I was in Minnesota, without a car, the day before Christmas. I took a taxi to the airport and flew home to spend Christmas with my parents. We eventually decided that I would drive back to Minnesota in my dad's Plymouth Reliant. He and my mom had moved to Colorado and were thinking about a pick-up truck, so my dad was more than happy to pass the old sedan on to me. My dad was amazing. So I drove the grey/blue sedan back to Minnesota where it hated the winter. It barely ran when it was cold.
David entered my life (with his own automobile ghosts and issues, but that's another story) and along came Carver. We'd been married for a few years, had both been working, and actually had some money to buy a new "family" car. We bought a Saturn wagon and I was in heaven. It was reliable, comfortable, affordable, and safe for Carver. I about broke my back leaning over that back seat and taking Carver in and out of his car seat, but other than that it was a dream. Our little Saturn took us to so many places on so many road trips.
We'd had the Saturn for a few years when David's car finally became more of a nuisance than something you wanted to drive. We found an old Volvo sedan (it was actually silver) that a nice family by the University of Minnesota was selling. I kid you not when I tell you this, they took one look at Carver and came down $1,000 on the price. We bought the Volvo for so cheap we paid cash for it. It was unbelievable. It was old and had high miles, sure, but it was a Volvo. Such a great little car. Unfortunately it was with us for a very brief time. We'd had the car for only 6 months when David was in a hit-and-run accident on the highway. He was horribly rear ended, and then the people who hit him (in a stolen car) ran up the embankment and disappeared. Honestly, though, had David not been in such a safe car I think he would have been injured. He walked away without a scratch.
The Volvo accident took place a few weeks before we were moving to Colorado. David drove the Saturn to work during the day which was fine because I was home packing up our house. And in the middle of all that, we adopted Lily. David flew to North Carolina and back in one day to get Lily, and 6 days later we drove with her in a U-Haul to Colorado. It was interesting. And crazy. I have the pictures from that week to prove we did it, but it's all a blur in my mind.
Fast forward 2 years. We were living in Colorado, and we had purposely bought a house a block from the high school where David worked. We were a one car family and loving it. At the end of the day, Carver would ride his tricycle while I carried Lily, and we'd go down the street to meet David at his school and then walk back home together. I have the sweetest memories of that time. One day our phone rang and it was a Saturn dealership offering to buy our Saturn wagon. Seems they had a customer who wanted a used wagon, exactly like ours. I guess we were in the Saturn database somewhere because we weren't trying to sell it. We told them we'd be interested if they had a used Honda Odyssey we could trade it for. We'd heard that was a good, reliable van and loved the idea of more room for road trips. They did have an Odyssey, so before I knew it I was a minivan mama. Our Odyssey rocked. Loved it. Loved not bending over anymore to strap kids into car seats. Loved having more than 3 inches of space between my back and my kids' feet. Loved that they could sit in multiple places and still not be touching each other.
Our old faithful Odyssey made it to 107,000 miles and was 10 years old. I recently took it into our mechanic for basic maintenance and discovered that it was time to replace some big items. The cost of the work was going to be more than the car was really worth, so we decided to look for a new car. We wanted something newer (obviously) that would see us through the next 5 years of crazy road trips. We're planning trips to Atlanta, South Carolina, Washington D. C., and possibly Florida. So the hunt for the next family car began. I had hoped to be past the minivan stage, but with 3 kids and a dog we just don't fit into a mid-size SUV. I couldn't justify a super sized SUV because the gas mileage is so terrible, and to be honest I was scared to death to drive something that big. So it was back to the minivan. We narrowed in on a Toyota Sienna because of the good reviews and their reliability. Turns out the rest of the world likes Siennas as well, because they're hard to find used. We wanted something just a couple of years old with average miles, and in our search over a 100 mile radius we found 3 that fit our criteria. 3. Yesterday David and I drove to Denver and looked at 2 of them and settled on the one we wanted. It's a 2007, but it's tricked out with so many gadgets and features and add-ons that it feels like it's from the future. It also has a sound system like a movie theater, which David and I put to good use on our drive home.
Welcome to the family, Swagger Wagon.*
(If you've not seen the Swagger Wagon video on YouTube, I suggest you go do it now. Funniest commercial EVER!)
5/27/10
Worn Out
The other day my friend Vivi found her youngest on the kitchen floor like this. Completely asleep. Out cold.
I thought the picture was hysterical and could only imagine how hard her kids had played to result in a nap on the floor. Well, yesterday we had our own day filled with non-stop activity. As I was making dinner I realized my usual chatterbox was missing. Here is what I found in the office.
5/25/10
My Life In Pictures
I need to buy me a hat like this, because I'm a widow now. An iphone widow.
David just got himself one of these. It's his other wife.
On the last day of school, they should hand out this t-shirt to every single mom. As in, "Here are your children and here is your t-shirt proclaiming that your house is a disaster." Summer vacation--though it is glorious--is always a home wrecker.
I need to be lacing up the running shoes and start running again. But all I want to do is eat more ice cream with hot fudge sauce.
But then I dream of London and how I will be there in less than 2 years and how amazing it would be to go running in London. So I may as well get started now. I am seriously dreaming of this map of the Underground. King's Cross, here I come.
I need to buy me a hat like this, because I'm a widow now. An iphone widow.
David just got himself one of these. It's his other wife.
On the last day of school, they should hand out this t-shirt to every single mom. As in, "Here are your children and here is your t-shirt proclaiming that your house is a disaster." Summer vacation--though it is glorious--is always a home wrecker.
I need to be lacing up the running shoes and start running again. But all I want to do is eat more ice cream with hot fudge sauce.
But then I dream of London and how I will be there in less than 2 years and how amazing it would be to go running in London. So I may as well get started now. I am seriously dreaming of this map of the Underground. King's Cross, here I come.
Oh, and there's the little issue having just 2 years to get my hair as long as this. I want that ponytail!
5/23/10
5/22/10
All In A Day
Yesterday was the last day of school. It was (finally) warm and sunny. It has been such a long, cold, wet spring that the end of school just snuck up on us. It sure didn't feel like summer vacation was right around the corner. But yesterday was perfect. 80 degrees and sunny. Zinabu's kindergarten class spent most of the day outside goofing off. Here he is in a water balloon toss. He took it way too seriously and got mad when his partner dropped the balloons. Somebody needs to get that kid to chill out.
And here are some of his classmates getting doused with a watering can from their teacher. Zinabu is right in the middle. You can see the back of his head.
Below is Mrs. Watson. She has been the kindergarten teacher to all 3 of my kids and she... is... awesome. I was helping in her class when Lily was in Kindergarten when I got "the call" about Zinabu. She was there the first day Z came home, bringing us dinner. She is our friend in and out of the class, and she's amazing. Zinabu could barely hold a pencil the first day of school, and now he's writing paragraphs. We love Mrs. Watson, and I cried a good long time yesterday knowing our time with her was over.
Last night we went back to school for 5th grade "graduation." I have known a lot of these kids since kindergarten, and it was a bit emotional. We were so proud of Carver. He won the music award, which is so fitting for him. He will be in orchestra in middle school (and high school), and music is what will save him from feeling discouraged when school becomes hard. Love, love, love Mrs. Lopez, his music teacher. Love her for seeing this potential in him.
We went out to dinner after the ceremony. Here I am with my now middle-schooler. I swear he was just a baby. I can hardly believe this.
Me and my darlings. (Zinabu was too busy eating a hamburger to be in the photo.) I'm trying my hardest to keep them young, but they grow despite my best efforts. My heart is so full.
Yesterday was the last day of school. It was (finally) warm and sunny. It has been such a long, cold, wet spring that the end of school just snuck up on us. It sure didn't feel like summer vacation was right around the corner. But yesterday was perfect. 80 degrees and sunny. Zinabu's kindergarten class spent most of the day outside goofing off. Here he is in a water balloon toss. He took it way too seriously and got mad when his partner dropped the balloons. Somebody needs to get that kid to chill out.
And here are some of his classmates getting doused with a watering can from their teacher. Zinabu is right in the middle. You can see the back of his head.
Below is Mrs. Watson. She has been the kindergarten teacher to all 3 of my kids and she... is... awesome. I was helping in her class when Lily was in Kindergarten when I got "the call" about Zinabu. She was there the first day Z came home, bringing us dinner. She is our friend in and out of the class, and she's amazing. Zinabu could barely hold a pencil the first day of school, and now he's writing paragraphs. We love Mrs. Watson, and I cried a good long time yesterday knowing our time with her was over.
And below is Mr. Watson. He is the 1st grade teacher. And yes, he and Mrs. Watson are married. The Watsons love all our kids and have inspired them and cared for them in and out of the classroom. Mr. Watson has a Harley, and he told Carver that if he kept a good attitude and always worked his hardest, he could earn motorcycle rides. Carver needed that challenge, and we were so happy to have another role model in Carver's life that could inspire him to keep doing his best, even when it's hard. Carver earned a motorcycle ride yesterday after school. I could write a good long time about my opinions on high achieving schools with good test scores and psycho parents and average schools with average test scores and laid back families. I'll spare you my dissertation. Our school is average. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Last night we went back to school for 5th grade "graduation." I have known a lot of these kids since kindergarten, and it was a bit emotional. We were so proud of Carver. He won the music award, which is so fitting for him. He will be in orchestra in middle school (and high school), and music is what will save him from feeling discouraged when school becomes hard. Love, love, love Mrs. Lopez, his music teacher. Love her for seeing this potential in him.
We went out to dinner after the ceremony. Here I am with my now middle-schooler. I swear he was just a baby. I can hardly believe this.
Me and my darlings. (Zinabu was too busy eating a hamburger to be in the photo.) I'm trying my hardest to keep them young, but they grow despite my best efforts. My heart is so full.
5/19/10
5/16/10
5/13/10
I know you're jealous of how I get to spend my day, but I'm so sorry. Not everyone can have a fun-filled life like mine.
The first half of my day includes standing in the snow (yes, it is snowing here) for my third track day of the week. Hip hip hooray. Frostbite on toes and blue lips. It's heavenly.
The second half of my day will be at traffic court for a speeding ticket. I can't even eat I'm so nervous. I got caught speeding in a construction zone (didn't know I was speeding... seriously!) and I have to stand before a judge and (I assume) get yelled at for being a horrible menace to society. I know you're just drooling over my agenda, but really folks. Only someone like me gets to have so much joy in one day.
The first half of my day includes standing in the snow (yes, it is snowing here) for my third track day of the week. Hip hip hooray. Frostbite on toes and blue lips. It's heavenly.
The second half of my day will be at traffic court for a speeding ticket. I can't even eat I'm so nervous. I got caught speeding in a construction zone (didn't know I was speeding... seriously!) and I have to stand before a judge and (I assume) get yelled at for being a horrible menace to society. I know you're just drooling over my agenda, but really folks. Only someone like me gets to have so much joy in one day.
5/11/10
A Mother's Day Note From Zinabu
Dear Mom,
My mom is the best because she helps me get to school by driving me to school in a gray van. She buys me food like apples, grapes, juice, chips, bread, bagels, english muffins, pretzels, peanuts, raisins, bananas, blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, corn, and carrots. You take care of me when I'm sick. She gives me medicine. That's why my mom is the best mom in the world. Love, Zinabu.
That is word for word what he wrote to me. I fixed some spelling errors, but those are his words. The way to his heart is transportation, food, and medicine. Easy enough.
5/8/10
5/7/10
Things you should know about today:
- Today is World AIDS Orphan day. Did you just happen to be born in an affluent country with at least one healthy parent? Then consider yourself lucky. There are over 20 million AIDS orphans. You can go here or here to help. And that's just scratching the surface.
- Today is Miss Lucy's 5th birthday. I can hardly believe it.
- Today my kids have no school. Teacher work day. It's going to be cold and cloudy. We had planned to pack a picnic and go to a playground, but I don't think that's going to happen. Does eating at Taco Bell count as a picnic?
- We miss David. Haven't seen him all week. I think he'll make an appearance tonight. I'm about ready to offer a reward for his return.
Hope your Friday is great!
5/5/10
Boring Post
I have no new pictures.
Nothing to tell you.
Nothing exciting happening.
We're just busy, busy, busy. The end of a school year is actually the worst time of year--especially if you're married to someone who works at a school. David's typical day this week is leave the house at 6 am and get home at 10:30 pm. It...is...crazy.
The kids have some sort of field trip, track meet, award ceremony, orchestra concert, assembly, test, or other such nonsense every single day. I'm not exactly fond of it, but there's certainly a lot going on.
School gets out in 2.5 weeks. I'm getting excited.
The birds started chirping at 4:30 this morning. I have never, ever, ever wanted a gun before, but in my sleep deprived stupor, I was tempted.
I have no new pictures.
Nothing to tell you.
Nothing exciting happening.
We're just busy, busy, busy. The end of a school year is actually the worst time of year--especially if you're married to someone who works at a school. David's typical day this week is leave the house at 6 am and get home at 10:30 pm. It...is...crazy.
The kids have some sort of field trip, track meet, award ceremony, orchestra concert, assembly, test, or other such nonsense every single day. I'm not exactly fond of it, but there's certainly a lot going on.
School gets out in 2.5 weeks. I'm getting excited.
The birds started chirping at 4:30 this morning. I have never, ever, ever wanted a gun before, but in my sleep deprived stupor, I was tempted.
5/2/10
Prom Night
This has certainly been an interesting weekend: Lily's birthday party (let us not speak of it) and Lily's birthday. And last night was prom for David's high school. I have always gotten out of going with him, but I hardly saw the man this week and I figured some time with him at a high school dance was better than no time with him at all. So after getting the kids ready for bed, I met him at the hotel where the prom was being held.
Wow. I had forgotten all the insecurities and angst and hormones of high school. And the fact that the girls all look 25 and the boys look 12. And how totally unfair that most high school girls have bigger boobs than me.
David is an incredible administrator. He doesn't hang out in the lobby, barking at kids or acting disinterested. We spent the entire night in the ballroom, next to the dance floor. He mingled with the students and chatted with them. They love him.
Prom night will be a part of my life for the next several years: as long as David will be principal. I might have to invest in a fancy dress. My favorite highlights:
This has certainly been an interesting weekend: Lily's birthday party (let us not speak of it) and Lily's birthday. And last night was prom for David's high school. I have always gotten out of going with him, but I hardly saw the man this week and I figured some time with him at a high school dance was better than no time with him at all. So after getting the kids ready for bed, I met him at the hotel where the prom was being held.
Wow. I had forgotten all the insecurities and angst and hormones of high school. And the fact that the girls all look 25 and the boys look 12. And how totally unfair that most high school girls have bigger boobs than me.
David is an incredible administrator. He doesn't hang out in the lobby, barking at kids or acting disinterested. We spent the entire night in the ballroom, next to the dance floor. He mingled with the students and chatted with them. They love him.
Prom night will be a part of my life for the next several years: as long as David will be principal. I might have to invest in a fancy dress. My favorite highlights:
- I knew a third of the music. Seriously impressed with myself.
- Getting our picture taken with the photographer. David made me laugh so hard I about wet my pants. I'll be sure to post the picture when we get it.
- The energy frenzy. Those kids danced non-stop for almost 4 hours.
- Watching all the white boys try to dance to rap.
- The girl with Down Syndrome who was there with her date and lit up when she spoke to us.
- The relief that I am not in high school anymore. Seriously. I enjoyed high school, but the drama... Thanks but no thanks.
Next year I will remember my camera.
4/30/10
4/27/10
* David and Zinabu in Ethiopia, April 2007
I was not there your first three and a half years of life.
I don't know when you were born.
I don't know when you first smiled.
I don't know when you first smiled.
I don't know if you are a surviving fraternal twin or an identical twin.
I don't know what your first word was.
I don't know when you walked.
I don't know what your favorite lullaby was.
I don't know what your first bath was like.
I don't know what your first bath was like.
Your first wish.
Your first laugh.
Your first joke.
Your first taste of food you didn't like.
Your first taste of food you loved.
Your first jump.
Your first game.
Your first game.
Your favorite color.
Your first owie.
Your first bad dream.
Or your second. Or your third. Or your fourth.
But I do now. Happy 3 year anniversary, my darling.
4/25/10
Friends
Yesterday I drove up to Denver to visit Deirdre and Bridget. Deirdre and I had met before, but it was the first time I was able to meet Bridget. Deirdre is freshly moved into her new house in just about the greatest neighborhood in Denver. They are sneezing distance from city zoo, museum of natural history, and fantastic parks. You almost want to stab her with a fork, but she and Greg are just too darn likable and cool that you can't help but be happy for them. She opended her home up to me and Lily and Z, and Bridget came with her daughter/fairy Elia. Elia is darling. I don't think I can convey to you enough how special the adoption community is to me. They're family. International adoption is like running a marathon, every single day, for months--sometimes years. How can you not bond with the other families that are enduring the same thing? Not to mention we speak the same language: home study, social worker, dossier, referral, wait time, travel date, Homeland Security, fingerprints, application fees, court date, travel visa, post placement reports, and on and on. There is something comforting about speaking that language with others who know exactly what you are saying.
Deirdre made food and I ate. The kids played so well together. Zinabu and Sidamo actually spent the entire time on the floor playing checkers and chess. They were like two old men at a park. Hysterical! They were so serious, so involved, and so determined to outsmart the other with their strategy. Nora and Elia passed through and made sure they had our attention. And Lily... well, Lily spent all her time with Deirdre's dog, Saffron. It was hard to tear her away at the end of the morning.
You can find Deirdre's muffin recipe here. I ate a lot. I won't give you an actual number, but it was not pretty.
After we left and started our journey back home, here is what my kids said.
Lily: "I love the name Deirdre. It's so pretty. I am going to name my next dog Deirdre."
Zinabu: "Mom, you'd be proud of me. I didn't say anything I wasn't supposed to say. Even though I wanted to say it."
Such a good day.
Yesterday I drove up to Denver to visit Deirdre and Bridget. Deirdre and I had met before, but it was the first time I was able to meet Bridget. Deirdre is freshly moved into her new house in just about the greatest neighborhood in Denver. They are sneezing distance from city zoo, museum of natural history, and fantastic parks. You almost want to stab her with a fork, but she and Greg are just too darn likable and cool that you can't help but be happy for them. She opended her home up to me and Lily and Z, and Bridget came with her daughter/fairy Elia. Elia is darling. I don't think I can convey to you enough how special the adoption community is to me. They're family. International adoption is like running a marathon, every single day, for months--sometimes years. How can you not bond with the other families that are enduring the same thing? Not to mention we speak the same language: home study, social worker, dossier, referral, wait time, travel date, Homeland Security, fingerprints, application fees, court date, travel visa, post placement reports, and on and on. There is something comforting about speaking that language with others who know exactly what you are saying.
Deirdre made food and I ate. The kids played so well together. Zinabu and Sidamo actually spent the entire time on the floor playing checkers and chess. They were like two old men at a park. Hysterical! They were so serious, so involved, and so determined to outsmart the other with their strategy. Nora and Elia passed through and made sure they had our attention. And Lily... well, Lily spent all her time with Deirdre's dog, Saffron. It was hard to tear her away at the end of the morning.
You can find Deirdre's muffin recipe here. I ate a lot. I won't give you an actual number, but it was not pretty.
After we left and started our journey back home, here is what my kids said.
Lily: "I love the name Deirdre. It's so pretty. I am going to name my next dog Deirdre."
Zinabu: "Mom, you'd be proud of me. I didn't say anything I wasn't supposed to say. Even though I wanted to say it."
Such a good day.
4/23/10
Here we are, just two gals in a minivan... off to see the ear, nose, and throat doctor. The errands I run these days. They're thrilling! Lily was pretty pleased to see Gummy Worms were just 39 cents at Walgreens. When we left for the doctor, it was raining and slushy. As we got closer to the doctor's office, the slush turned to snow. While we were in with the doctor, the snow turned into a blizzard. We had a hard time driving home, but Lily entertained me with tales of Drew at school.
Drew is a boy. Drew is in her 3rd grade class. I think Drew likes Lily. Drew wrote Lily a note. He told her "your skin is a beautiful brown like a Hershey Kiss."
He luvvvvvvvs her. Lily, the private, shy, and over-emotional girl that she is, was not impressed. She cried.
Oh, the drama.
After a tremendous co-pay to the ear, nose, and throat specialist, we were told that Lily has nosebleeds. Duh! He gave us some treatment options, the homeopathic ones being best. He also told us she has a significant deviated septum and surgery is a likelihood when she's a teenager. Oh glory.
The kids didn't have school today (teacher work day) so the weather is nothing but a chance to be lazy. Right now Carver and I are snuggled up watching a movie, Zinabu is playing with his action figures and yelling things like, "Shazam!" and "Chopper!" and "Kryptonite!" and Lily is playing with the dog.
Happy Friday.
4/21/10
I'm having a hard time blogging because I'm having a hard time seeing... and breathing... thanks to spring allergies. This is a new thorn in my side. Spring used to be a pleasant time. Right now I look like I have pink-eye and a serious sinus issue. Good thing David pledged to love me no matter what. He left this morning while I was still in my crazy pajamas (a Harry Potter t-shirt and too small sweat pants) and blowing my nose in between 100 sneezes. I wanted to call out, "Wait! I can be pretty. Just give me an hour!" But he had to leave for work. (Note to self: try to look pretty when he gets home tonight.)
Ina Garten's ears must be buzzing because I've been cooking every single meal from her recipes. I have avoided the scale, especially after last night's lemon cake, but the food is good therapy for my itchy eyes. So far the sauteed zucchini and Indonesian chicken have been my favorites.
I am struggling through another editing project. It is painfully boring but it will help pad the vacation fund. Big plans there. BIG plans. Fortunately one of the cable channels has been airing Sense and Sensibility every day, so I keep that on in the background and cheer for Colonel Brandon and boo at Mr. Willoughby. The lines I've memorized keep me alert, especially when I use my British accent. A little Austen makes the time go by.
So our big travel plans, while years away, are to visit London. Though that involves a lengthy plane trip, I can NOT wait. David and I will celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary next year, and two years from now we have "big" birthdays. What better way to celebrate than to hop across the pond. So for now, more boring work projects to fund the trip.
My other goal? Grow my hair out one more time and wear it in a ponytail as I ride the Underground. Think I'll be able to do it?
Ina Garten's ears must be buzzing because I've been cooking every single meal from her recipes. I have avoided the scale, especially after last night's lemon cake, but the food is good therapy for my itchy eyes. So far the sauteed zucchini and Indonesian chicken have been my favorites.
I am struggling through another editing project. It is painfully boring but it will help pad the vacation fund. Big plans there. BIG plans. Fortunately one of the cable channels has been airing Sense and Sensibility every day, so I keep that on in the background and cheer for Colonel Brandon and boo at Mr. Willoughby. The lines I've memorized keep me alert, especially when I use my British accent. A little Austen makes the time go by.
So our big travel plans, while years away, are to visit London. Though that involves a lengthy plane trip, I can NOT wait. David and I will celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary next year, and two years from now we have "big" birthdays. What better way to celebrate than to hop across the pond. So for now, more boring work projects to fund the trip.
My other goal? Grow my hair out one more time and wear it in a ponytail as I ride the Underground. Think I'll be able to do it?
4/19/10
Checklist for Monday
Disrupted sleep because of allergies (me and the kids): check
Mediocre lunches packed: check
Watched dog stare and growl at a blank wall (is something living back there???): check
Wore pajama top under my sweatshirt while driving kids to school: check
Wore pajama top under my sweatshirt IN school because Z wanted me to stay: check
Washed a load of laundry and forgot to add detergent: check
Put off massive work project: check
Pretend that I have a lunch date with Mr. Darcy: check
Continue living in la-la land: check
Disrupted sleep because of allergies (me and the kids): check
Mediocre lunches packed: check
Watched dog stare and growl at a blank wall (is something living back there???): check
Wore pajama top under my sweatshirt while driving kids to school: check
Wore pajama top under my sweatshirt IN school because Z wanted me to stay: check
Washed a load of laundry and forgot to add detergent: check
Put off massive work project: check
Pretend that I have a lunch date with Mr. Darcy: check
Continue living in la-la land: check
4/17/10
Assume The Position
Saturday mornings are sacred around here. We try not to participate in any activity that requires us to be somewhere before 10:00 am. Actually, we try to not participate in any activity that requires us to be anywhere on a Saturday, but sometimes that cannot be avoided. Saturdays are the one day of the week we are all together and can just chill. No worries. No stress. No expectations. I love it.
It's also the one day the kids can plop down in front of the TV without permission. I expect it of them. I expect them to zone out and just relax. I expect them to be mindlessly entertained while I drink coffee and read the paper.
No one takes this more seriously than Zinabu. (see above photo for evidence)
Saturday mornings are sacred around here. We try not to participate in any activity that requires us to be somewhere before 10:00 am. Actually, we try to not participate in any activity that requires us to be anywhere on a Saturday, but sometimes that cannot be avoided. Saturdays are the one day of the week we are all together and can just chill. No worries. No stress. No expectations. I love it.
It's also the one day the kids can plop down in front of the TV without permission. I expect it of them. I expect them to zone out and just relax. I expect them to be mindlessly entertained while I drink coffee and read the paper.
No one takes this more seriously than Zinabu. (see above photo for evidence)
4/14/10
Zinabu
There just aren't enough hours in the day to appreciate all of Zinabu. I have stories of this kid that would knock your socks off. He is goofy and wild, but combine that with his smart-as-a-whip brain and you've got a wicked cocktail of crazy.
This is what he was doing this morning. Reading the grocery circulars. He saw that chicken was on sale and was hopping up and down in excitement.
Zinabu is going to enjoy his play date with Sidamo next week. They can browse the grocery circulars together.
The other night my mom put Zinabu to bed (love living with my mom!) and he was a little sad so she began singing to him. Sweet lullabies and gentle words. He interrupted her and asked, "Do you know any songs about the Grinch?"
Oh-keeeee.
And in keeping with "Strange But True Medical Mysteries" that my children continue to experience, I was helping Z brush his teeth a few weeks ago and screamed when I saw that his permanent bottom teeth are growing in behind his baby teeth. He has teeth in rows. Like a shark. He is shark boy.
Which means many more hours in the orthodontist's office, as well as a huge part or our take-home pay. It's hard to tell in the photo, but those new teeth are a good half inch behind his baby teeth, which are still in his mouth and are not budging. We talk in whispers about "the dentist pulling his teeth" when we think Z can't hear us.
It sound bizarre, but given all the crazy medical drama my kids have, I would welcome someone just falling out of a tree and breaking their arm. Sounds delightful. But no. Next week I am taking Lily to the Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist because she has severe bloody noses, up to 5 times a day. She is a walking Red Cross donation center. She's already had surgery once to cauterize her nose. Perhaps a second procedure is on the horizon?
Oh goody.
There just aren't enough hours in the day to appreciate all of Zinabu. I have stories of this kid that would knock your socks off. He is goofy and wild, but combine that with his smart-as-a-whip brain and you've got a wicked cocktail of crazy.
This is what he was doing this morning. Reading the grocery circulars. He saw that chicken was on sale and was hopping up and down in excitement.
Zinabu is going to enjoy his play date with Sidamo next week. They can browse the grocery circulars together.
The other night my mom put Zinabu to bed (love living with my mom!) and he was a little sad so she began singing to him. Sweet lullabies and gentle words. He interrupted her and asked, "Do you know any songs about the Grinch?"
Oh-keeeee.
And in keeping with "Strange But True Medical Mysteries" that my children continue to experience, I was helping Z brush his teeth a few weeks ago and screamed when I saw that his permanent bottom teeth are growing in behind his baby teeth. He has teeth in rows. Like a shark. He is shark boy.
Which means many more hours in the orthodontist's office, as well as a huge part or our take-home pay. It's hard to tell in the photo, but those new teeth are a good half inch behind his baby teeth, which are still in his mouth and are not budging. We talk in whispers about "the dentist pulling his teeth" when we think Z can't hear us.
It sound bizarre, but given all the crazy medical drama my kids have, I would welcome someone just falling out of a tree and breaking their arm. Sounds delightful. But no. Next week I am taking Lily to the Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist because she has severe bloody noses, up to 5 times a day. She is a walking Red Cross donation center. She's already had surgery once to cauterize her nose. Perhaps a second procedure is on the horizon?
Oh goody.
4/11/10
Rest
I don't know if "delishiest" is a word, but it sure suits my day. Making strawberry shortcake with Lily and reading mindless fiction on the sunny back porch. Gah. This warm weather is spoiling me. It's so fantastic. Yesterday I was a little aggressive and did yard work--all day--and by last night I was a walking zombie. The kids pitched in, then would disappear and make forts or play games, and reappear in need of food and water. One thing I love about my mom's house is that the yard work is not nearly as hard as our old house. So working my tail off for one day was hardly a sacrifice. It felt good. My only job left is to build a garden box with lumber and fill it with black dirt. And since I'm not attempting seedlings this year, I don't have to worry about that for another month.
After church, all I *had* to do today was go to the grocery store. Lily and I stumbled upon vats of strawberries and we cooked up (ha, ha!) a scheme to make strawberry shortcake from scratch. I then spent the rest of the afternoon listening to my kids playing in the trees while I read drivel outside. It... was... heavenly.
Tomorrow I will post a picture of Zinabu, our shark boy. (There's a story there.)
I don't know if "delishiest" is a word, but it sure suits my day. Making strawberry shortcake with Lily and reading mindless fiction on the sunny back porch. Gah. This warm weather is spoiling me. It's so fantastic. Yesterday I was a little aggressive and did yard work--all day--and by last night I was a walking zombie. The kids pitched in, then would disappear and make forts or play games, and reappear in need of food and water. One thing I love about my mom's house is that the yard work is not nearly as hard as our old house. So working my tail off for one day was hardly a sacrifice. It felt good. My only job left is to build a garden box with lumber and fill it with black dirt. And since I'm not attempting seedlings this year, I don't have to worry about that for another month.
After church, all I *had* to do today was go to the grocery store. Lily and I stumbled upon vats of strawberries and we cooked up (ha, ha!) a scheme to make strawberry shortcake from scratch. I then spent the rest of the afternoon listening to my kids playing in the trees while I read drivel outside. It... was... heavenly.
Tomorrow I will post a picture of Zinabu, our shark boy. (There's a story there.)
4/8/10
We are rockin' the nice weather. It snowed yesterday (yes, you read that right), but today and the next week are slated to be bee-you-ti-ful. We're taking no prisoners. We will leave no stone unturned. No bug unprodded. No puddles unslplashed. No bikes unridden, skateboards unollied, sidewalks unchalked.
You get the picture.
Hard to believe but summer is right around the corner. Time to start figuring out how scheduledwe should be so the kids don't kill each other we want to be to have a happy, fulfilling summer.
David and I were idiots last night. We had to run a super fast errand and came right back home and then I realized we didn't even stop to get ice cream. What married couple with kids gets a chance to leave the house at night for a boring errand but doesn't take advantage of the moment and get ice cream??? Us, apparently.
And in a hilarious "Recently Overheard" report, I heard this from the neighbor boy in a conversation with David.
David: "Hi Nick! How are you?""
Nick: "Are you the dad or the grandpa?"
Snort.
You get the picture.
Hard to believe but summer is right around the corner. Time to start figuring out how scheduled
David and I were idiots last night. We had to run a super fast errand and came right back home and then I realized we didn't even stop to get ice cream. What married couple with kids gets a chance to leave the house at night for a boring errand but doesn't take advantage of the moment and get ice cream??? Us, apparently.
And in a hilarious "Recently Overheard" report, I heard this from the neighbor boy in a conversation with David.
David: "Hi Nick! How are you?""
Nick: "Are you the dad or the grandpa?"
Snort.
4/6/10
What Happens When Someone Yells At You
Every day I take Buddy to a nearby field to play fetch. It's at the bottom of our neighborhood. In theory you could walk there, but since in theory I have as much time on my hands as a shoe elf I pop the dog in the car, zip down there, park, throw the ball, and come home. It's a nice little system. (By the way, I highly recommend getting a lab. They love playing fetch so much it takes just a few minutes a day to wear them out and make them head over heels in love with you.)
So anywhoooo, I drive down to the field today, park by the curb, and proceed to exercise the dog. Five minutes later the grumpiest man of the universe (I know this because he was actually wearing a hat that read "Grumpiest Man of the Universe." Ok, he wasn't but he should have been.) pulls up, gets out of the car, and hustles over to confront me. I have just picked up Buddy's digested breakfast, so you can just picture me holding a bag of dog poo as this man is huffing his way over to me just as fast as he can move. He hollers (yes, hollers!) "IS THAT YOUR CAR????" Well, since there is no one but me around for a mile it's quite obvious that it's my car but maybe he's trying to set me up. I tell him it is. And he hollers some more. "YOU CAN'T PARK THERE. THIS IS A PRIVATE STREET. A PRIVATE STREET. DO YOU HEAR ME? A PRIVATE STREET!!!!"
Clearly, it is a private street. So I tell him that I just live up the road but he cuts me off and hollers "IT'S A PRIVATE STREET! NO PARKING!!! PRIVATE STREET!" He stalks away and takes his time easing himself into his car, buckling his seat belt, and glaring at me one more time. I, on the other hand, burst into tears. I would suck at any kind of career that involved raised voices or confrontation. (Oh wait. Isn't that motherhood?) People yelling at me always makes me cry and makes me feel about 2 inches tall.
I went home and allowed myself the delicious time to plan revenge. To plot nasty get-back-at-the-grumpy-man tricks. David even told me to call the city and make the man pay to post a No Parking sign on his street since there isn't one there right now.
And then I moved on.
Every day I take Buddy to a nearby field to play fetch. It's at the bottom of our neighborhood. In theory you could walk there, but since in theory I have as much time on my hands as a shoe elf I pop the dog in the car, zip down there, park, throw the ball, and come home. It's a nice little system. (By the way, I highly recommend getting a lab. They love playing fetch so much it takes just a few minutes a day to wear them out and make them head over heels in love with you.)
So anywhoooo, I drive down to the field today, park by the curb, and proceed to exercise the dog. Five minutes later the grumpiest man of the universe (I know this because he was actually wearing a hat that read "Grumpiest Man of the Universe." Ok, he wasn't but he should have been.) pulls up, gets out of the car, and hustles over to confront me. I have just picked up Buddy's digested breakfast, so you can just picture me holding a bag of dog poo as this man is huffing his way over to me just as fast as he can move. He hollers (yes, hollers!) "IS THAT YOUR CAR????" Well, since there is no one but me around for a mile it's quite obvious that it's my car but maybe he's trying to set me up. I tell him it is. And he hollers some more. "YOU CAN'T PARK THERE. THIS IS A PRIVATE STREET. A PRIVATE STREET. DO YOU HEAR ME? A PRIVATE STREET!!!!"
Clearly, it is a private street. So I tell him that I just live up the road but he cuts me off and hollers "IT'S A PRIVATE STREET! NO PARKING!!! PRIVATE STREET!" He stalks away and takes his time easing himself into his car, buckling his seat belt, and glaring at me one more time. I, on the other hand, burst into tears. I would suck at any kind of career that involved raised voices or confrontation. (Oh wait. Isn't that motherhood?) People yelling at me always makes me cry and makes me feel about 2 inches tall.
I went home and allowed myself the delicious time to plan revenge. To plot nasty get-back-at-the-grumpy-man tricks. David even told me to call the city and make the man pay to post a No Parking sign on his street since there isn't one there right now.
And then I moved on.
4/4/10
4/2/10
3/31/10
This Day...
is pretty important. Just look what's on my calendar.
We've been married 14 years. Is 14 years supposed to feel like a milestone? It doesn't--because being married to David is not something you measure in challenges or hardship or perseverance. As Shakespeare wrote, "A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart." His heart is so kind. 14 years doesn't even scratch the surface.
is pretty important. Just look what's on my calendar.
We've been married 14 years. Is 14 years supposed to feel like a milestone? It doesn't--because being married to David is not something you measure in challenges or hardship or perseverance. As Shakespeare wrote, "A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart." His heart is so kind. 14 years doesn't even scratch the surface.
3/29/10
Things I Learned On My Vacation
Family time is fabulous. Being together 24/7 really is a treat. No responsibilities for David. No chores for me. No school for the kids. Just together. Loved it.
Family time sometimes brings out the worst in us. There was one time at the Peter Pan ride when I questioned our sanity. There was another time one of our kids was in such a funk they threatened to run away. I wish I could tell you that announcement devastated me. It didn't. (I think it's important that you know our family is not perfect, we are not all cute photos and smiles. We screw up. We bug each other. But we're in it together, whether we like it or not.)
I cherished every single moment I had with Carver. I don't know if we'll ever do a Disney trip again, but if we do, he'll be older and won't want to spend the entire day with us. He'll probably run off by himself and meet up with us at different times during the day. I know that time is coming, so I savored each and every minute we were together. There was one day he held my hand. Quite possibly for the last time. When else will we be somewhere--at his age--where he will feel comfortable enough to reach up and hold my hand?
I was relieved Carver was still 11 and not 15 or 18. Why? Boobs. Boobs everywhere. Spring break and teenage girls = boobs. Plus add in all the older women who were still trying to dress like they're 18. Yeesh. A note to other mothers of girls: make your daughters dress discreetly. It did NOT help that toward the end of the week there was a National Cheerleading Competition in Anaheim and there were mobs of ditsy girls with (you guessed it) boobs. I can't speak for David, but I've seen enough boobs to last a lifetime.
My kids must have gills. They swam every day. For hours. They swam even when it was late at night and they were exhausted. They couldn't resist it. And David and I couldn't help but give in.
Flying home was a little easier than flying out to CA. I bet if I flew once a week I wouldn't mind flying at all. It's the years in between each flight that do me in. And I don't mind take-offs or landings. I hate turbulence. Hate them. White-knuckle all the way. We returned home late, late, late on Saturday, and all day on Sunday I felt like I had a horrible hangover... which given all the drugs I took I pretty much did have a hangover.
I forget that we get stared at. A lot. I forget that our family looks different to others. I'm used to getting second looks and getting noticed when we go out as a family, but at a place like Disneyland we turn heads all day long. We also get the "pity" look. The "oh, they couldn't have any children of their own so they had to adopt" look. Or the "oh, how sweet... they adopted a bunch of black children." Their assumptions are wrong, but when you're fighting the crowds to ride Buzz Lightyear for the 8 millionth time you don't have time to explain your family or even glare back in a "leave us alone" look.
We are not the only family that looks like us. I saw at least 6 other families that were carbon copies of ours. Seeing that melted my heart. Absolutely melted my heart.
(*Because Blogger is out to make my life miserable, it is not letting me upload photos right now. You're secretely relieved that you don't have to look at any more of our vacation pictures, aren't you?)
Family time is fabulous. Being together 24/7 really is a treat. No responsibilities for David. No chores for me. No school for the kids. Just together. Loved it.
Family time sometimes brings out the worst in us. There was one time at the Peter Pan ride when I questioned our sanity. There was another time one of our kids was in such a funk they threatened to run away. I wish I could tell you that announcement devastated me. It didn't. (I think it's important that you know our family is not perfect, we are not all cute photos and smiles. We screw up. We bug each other. But we're in it together, whether we like it or not.)
I cherished every single moment I had with Carver. I don't know if we'll ever do a Disney trip again, but if we do, he'll be older and won't want to spend the entire day with us. He'll probably run off by himself and meet up with us at different times during the day. I know that time is coming, so I savored each and every minute we were together. There was one day he held my hand. Quite possibly for the last time. When else will we be somewhere--at his age--where he will feel comfortable enough to reach up and hold my hand?
I was relieved Carver was still 11 and not 15 or 18. Why? Boobs. Boobs everywhere. Spring break and teenage girls = boobs. Plus add in all the older women who were still trying to dress like they're 18. Yeesh. A note to other mothers of girls: make your daughters dress discreetly. It did NOT help that toward the end of the week there was a National Cheerleading Competition in Anaheim and there were mobs of ditsy girls with (you guessed it) boobs. I can't speak for David, but I've seen enough boobs to last a lifetime.
My kids must have gills. They swam every day. For hours. They swam even when it was late at night and they were exhausted. They couldn't resist it. And David and I couldn't help but give in.
Flying home was a little easier than flying out to CA. I bet if I flew once a week I wouldn't mind flying at all. It's the years in between each flight that do me in. And I don't mind take-offs or landings. I hate turbulence. Hate them. White-knuckle all the way. We returned home late, late, late on Saturday, and all day on Sunday I felt like I had a horrible hangover... which given all the drugs I took I pretty much did have a hangover.
I forget that we get stared at. A lot. I forget that our family looks different to others. I'm used to getting second looks and getting noticed when we go out as a family, but at a place like Disneyland we turn heads all day long. We also get the "pity" look. The "oh, they couldn't have any children of their own so they had to adopt" look. Or the "oh, how sweet... they adopted a bunch of black children." Their assumptions are wrong, but when you're fighting the crowds to ride Buzz Lightyear for the 8 millionth time you don't have time to explain your family or even glare back in a "leave us alone" look.
We are not the only family that looks like us. I saw at least 6 other families that were carbon copies of ours. Seeing that melted my heart. Absolutely melted my heart.
(*Because Blogger is out to make my life miserable, it is not letting me upload photos right now. You're secretely relieved that you don't have to look at any more of our vacation pictures, aren't you?)
3/24/10
3/18/10
Before A Trip
This is me as I'm packing for a trip in which flying on a plane is a necessity:
"Did I pack my pills? Underwear, toothbrush. Did I pack my pills? Shorts, lotion. Did I pack my pills? Pills? Pills?
And of course I did, but I become obsessive-compulsive about it. So my children may or may not have anything to wear, but by golly I'll have my pills.
I didn't used to be this way. Help me feel better about my weakness. Please share your phobias!
This is me as I'm packing for a trip in which flying on a plane is a necessity:
"Did I pack my pills? Underwear, toothbrush. Did I pack my pills? Shorts, lotion. Did I pack my pills? Pills? Pills?
And of course I did, but I become obsessive-compulsive about it. So my children may or may not have anything to wear, but by golly I'll have my pills.
I didn't used to be this way. Help me feel better about my weakness. Please share your phobias!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)